


without an ounce of selfishness

by thesetemplebones



Series: what is marriage? [3]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-17 00:58:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3509204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesetemplebones/pseuds/thesetemplebones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sigrid's laugh was muffled against Fili's hand that was pressed against her mouth. She longed to open her mouth, to kiss his palm, to taste him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	without an ounce of selfishness

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read and liked this story! It means so much to me! (:
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

**“** **M** y lady, you shouldn't be doing that.”

Sigrid sat back on her heels, brushing the back of her dirty hand against her cheek, removing a piece of her hair from the corner of her mouth. She looked at the older woman, Martha, who sat on a wooden stool; cleaning the fresh vegetables that she had collected earlier from the garden.

“It's really no trouble, Martha,” Sigrid told her, “I am young and able.”

Martha frowned, “you are a _lady_!”

Sigrid rolled her eyes, sighing, as she knelt back over and continued to tend to the garden. The garden was a community garden for all of Dale. Most of what was collected from the garden went to the farmer's market and though there were farmers that tended to it, Sigrid didn't mind doing the labor. Especially on early, hot summer days like the one they were having.

Martha was an older woman who tended to the garden regularly and Sigrid, worried for her health, didn't want her to work in the sun. So, she made her go and sit on a wooden stool, and clean the vegetables that Sigrid gathered.

“It's alright for _you_ to get heat sickness,” Martha frowned, “but not myself.”

“Yes,” Sigrid replied, not looking up from her work, “if I get heat sickness, I can recover more quickly than you would be able to.”

“Rubbish,” Martha grumbled.

Sigrid held back a laugh as she shook her head and continued on with her work. She knew that she must look a sight; hunched over, sweat covering her brow, cheeks flushed, hair a mess with dirt smudges on the gray vest that she wore over her navy blue blouse. At least the dirt smudges blended into her brown colored skirt that she wore.

She heard the people mumble and whisper as they passed by. She saw, from the corner of her eyes, the disapproving glances that were shot her way. Sigrid was the betrothed of the crown prince of Erebor, she was the Lady of Dale.

_A lady's place is not on her knees in the dirt._

Sigrid had heard it all. Why should she not do the labor when she was more than able to? Did she not eat the food collected from this garden? Just because she was the Lady of Dale and soon to be crown princess of Erebor did not mean she couldn't kneel in the dirt. Not when she had the ability to do so.

“Sigrid!”

She stopped and turned to look over her shoulder; Tilda was walking toward her with a bucket of cold water, an errand that Sigrid had sent her sister on some time ago. Sigrid sat up, “took your time.”

“I got distracted,” Tilda sat the bucket down beside her sister, “I'm sorry.”

“Distracted?” Sigrid asked.

“That would be my fault.”

Sigrid looked over her sister's shoulder and saw Kili walking up, an apologetic smile on his lips. She sighed and shook her head. Of course Kili was involved.

“My lord,” Martha gave a polite nod.

Kili returned it with a bow of his own before he looked down at Sigrid, who was taking a cool drink of water from the bucket, “I apologize for distracting your sister.”

“It's quite alright, Kili,” Sigrid smiled, “it was nothing dire.”

“ _Nothing dire_ , she says,” Martha spoke from behind her, “working nonstop at tending to this garden, the sun beating down on her with no water breaks and she says _nothing dire_.”

“Sigrid,” Tilda frowned.

“I'm okay, Tilda,” Sigrid shook her head, shooting an annoyed look over her shoulder to the other woman before she turned back to her little sister, “really.”

“Well, you're starting your break now,” Kili said.

“Oh?” Sigrid looked up at the dark haired dwarf prince.

Kili nodded, his smile widened, “you have a visitor.”

Sigrid gave him a confused look.

“My brother,” Kili answered.

“Fili is here?” Sigrid asked.

“Yes, he's being the blacksmith,” Tilda said.

“The _blacksmith_?” Sigrid looked between her sister and Kili, “why is he being the blacksmith?”

“That's why I got distracted,” Tilda sat down beside her sister, “Clyde collapsed. So, Fili and Kili were helping him and I had to get him water.”

“Clyde _collapsed_?” Sigrid stood up, “is he alright?”

“Clyde is fine,” Kili quickly said, putting his hands up to stop her from rushing away or collapsing herself, “my brother has taken over the blacksmith duties for the moment while the other man rests.”

Sigrid was about to ask how Fili could do that but then she remembered that he was a dwarf and being a blacksmith was like second nature to them. Placing the wooden ladle back into the cool water bucket, Sigrid turned to look back at Martha, “no working in the garden. Just finish cleaning the vegetables.”

“No being the blacksmith,” Martha pointed a finger at her. “We don't need _you_ collapsing, my lady.”

“Fair enough,” Sigrid smiled and turned back to the other two, “don't get into any trouble.”

Tilda nodded while Kili frowned, “trouble?”

“ _Kili_ ,” Sigrid warned.

“Alright, alright,” Kili waved his hand, “off you go. You have a few minutes before I come calling.”

* * *

 

Sigrid laughed and made her way to the blacksmith stall. She fanned herself with her hand as she walked, using the corner of her vest to wipe the sweat away. It had been unusually hot but then some of the early summer days were like this.

Sigrid's eyes quickly found the blacksmith station before she arrived to it. She spotted Clyde, Dale's best blacksmith, sitting on a tall wooden stool with the side of his face pressed against the wooden beam. In one hand he had a cup of cool water. She all but tripped over her own feet when she turned her gaze to Fili.

The sleeves of his blue shirt were rolled up to his elbows and his wild mane of blonde hair was a mess, his appearance even more of a lion than ever before. His hands were smudged black from the coal and he had a faint line of it across his forehead, like he had wiped the back of his hand there. She could see the sweat on his own brow as well as his chest, from his shirt being untied and slightly opened.

Sigrid was feeling slightly warmer than before. _Oh my._

“Sigrid?”

She was broken out of her daze by the concerned voice of said lion prince. She shook her head, pretending that her cheeks were flushed from the heat, and gave him a smile.

“Are you alright, my lady?” Clyde asked.

“Yes,” Sigrid nodded, “thank you.” She turned her focus onto the man, “I should be asking _you_ that.” She walked over to the blacksmith, coming to a stop in front of him, frowning. “How are you feeling?”

“I'm fine,” Clyde nodded his head in the direction of Fili, “he's been helping me. He's quite the skilled blacksmith.”

“I've been told,” Sigrid looked at Fili, giving him a warm smile before she looked back to Clyde, “why don't you rest for a few more moments?”

Clyde shook his head, “I'm better, my lady, really.” He looked over to Fili, “mother hen of Dale this one. You'd think _she_ was the older one!”

“So, I've been told,” Fili smirked.

Sigrid rolled her eyes and took the empty cup from Clyde, walking over to the pitcher that sat on the table behind him, and filled it up before handing the cup back to him. Both of the men chuckled as Clyde gulped the water down.

“Thank you, prince,” Clyde stood from the stool, “I can take over now.”

Fili paused in his work and looked up at the man, “are you sure?”

“Yes,” Clyde replied, giving him a smile, “besides, I think you may want to escape while you still can.” He winked.

Fili laughed and nodded, turning his attention back to Sigrid, “fancy a walk?”

Sigrid nodded, shooting Clyde one last worried look, before she followed after the dwarf prince. They made their way through the crowded streets of Dale, saying the polite greetings to the people who said their own, before they came to a halt. They sat down on a side of a building, away from prying eyes with Fili sitting a bit above her; the ground being a slight hill, while Sigrid sat, with her back against the wall.

“Are you well?” Fili asked.

Sigrid looked up at him, “yes.”

“Tilda told me that you were tending to the garden,” Fili looked at her, his blue eyes daring her to brush him off.

“I wasn't going to let Martha work in this heat,” Sigrid snapped.

“You worked yourself too hard,” Fili said, “you'd be no help if you got heat sickness.”

Sigrid sighed, “you sound like everyone else.”

Fili laughed, “they're right.”

“You worked hard yourself too,” Sigrid argued.

“I'm a dwarf,” Fili answered.

“Oh, that makes all the difference then,” Sigrid shook her head.

“Actually yes,” Fili nodded, “we dwarves are hardy folk.”

“Hardy fools,” Sigrid mumbled.

Fili heard and laughed, shaking his head at the human girl, “we can withstand the heat and cold, unlike humans.”

Sigrid looked up at him, “are you saying because I'm human, I'm meek?”

“No,” Fili argued quickly, shaking his head, “no, not at all.”

Sigrid sighed and leaned back against the wall, “I'm sorry. My back aches a bit from being hunched over most of the day.”

“It's alright,” Fili said, “I quite like you fiery like this.” A smirk appeared on his lips and his blue eyes began to gleam.

Sigrid huffed, knowing that her cheeks were turning red again, as she looked down at her hands. She began to play with her fingers on her lap, avoiding his stare. She quite liked the appearance of Fili as a blacksmith. She began to get warm again at the thought.

“Thank you, for helping Clyde,” Sigrid said.

“It was no trouble at all,” Fili said.

“You looked… _comfortable_ ,” she looked up at the dwarf, “doing the blacksmith work.”

Fili nodded and looked down at his hands, rubbing his fingers over the coal stains that covered his palms, “I did some blacksmith work when we traveled. My Uncle did too, for some time. It's in our blood, you could say.”

Sigrid nodded, “it's why I do some of the labor, I do. I feel useless when I just sit around and do nothing. Living in Laketown, I didn't have time for that,” she looked down at her own hands, rubbing at the dirt. “It is strange to not see blisters on my hands, or cracks from being dry.”

* * *

 

Fili nodded and then stilled, lifting his head up.

Sigrid noticed and raised her eyebrows, “Fili what-”

Fili's hand covered her mouth before she was able to finish her sentence. Her eyes widened with surprise and she covered his hand with her own.

“FILI!”

Sigrid and Fili both stilled at the sound of Kili's voice. She noticed that Fili was close to her, pressing her back against the wall, his warm breath hitting her face.

“YOU TROLL! WHERE ARE YOU?”

Sigrid's laugh was muffled against Fili's hand that was pressed against her mouth. She longed to open her mouth, to kiss his palm, to taste him. She began to flush at the unexpected thought that crossed her mind. She felt as if her heart was going to pound right out of her chest.

It seemed like years to her when Fili uncovered her mouth and moved away from her, going back to his original spot. Sigrid had to remind herself to breathe as she stayed leaning against the wall. She was thankful that she could use the heat as an excuse for her flushed face.

“Sigrid.”

“Hmm?”

“Why did you agree to marry me?”

Sigrid's head snapped up, her eyes focused on Fili, “what?”

“Your father wouldn't force you to do something,” Fili looked at her, “so why did you agree to this union?”

“Duty, I suppose,” Sigrid looked away from him and down at her hands in her lap, “for my family. This union will help my family and my people.” She looked over to him and smiled, “there are worst princes that I could marry than you, Fili, crown prince under the mountain.” _But I chose you. I'd choose you._ “Besides, it gives Tilda the choice to marry who she wants.”

“To marry for love,” Fili added.

“Are we not marrying for love?” Sigrid asked, looking up from under her lashes at the dwarf, who was now staring at her intently, “love for our family? For our people?” _For each other?_

“Yes,” Fili nodded, “I suppose we are.”

Silence.

“Why did _you_ agree, Fili?”

“Because there are worst ladies that I could marry than you,” Fili smirked, “Sigrid, Lady of Dale.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! (:
> 
> The next part will be the wedding! Finally!
> 
> -KT xo


End file.
